I’m going to give the Bonfim stripe
Didn’t help me at all
But I’ll keep the Pixinguinha record, ok?
The rest is yours
In a brief, you can keep
The leftovers of everything that‘s called home,
The shadows of everything that we were,
The love marks in our sheets,
Our best memories
The hope that everything would be alright
You may forget
That wedding ring you can pawn
Or melt
But I should say I’m not going to give you
The enormous pleasure of seeing me crying
Nor will I charge you for the damage you caused.
My chest so ripped apart
By the way
Accept some help from your future lover
For the rent
Give me back the Neruda that you took from me
And never read
I slam the gate without making any noise.
A last drink, miss you a lot
And a hint that I should be gone already